Four Point Compass
by ChainDaisy
Summary: Following an accident at Shiz, Galinda and Elphaba wind up forward in time 20 years. Can the two estranged witches put aside their differences and work together to save their own future?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Well, I haven't actually seen the musical, but I'm a little ways through the book and am fascinated by the progression of the relationship between Glinda and Elphaba! **

**PLEASE NOTE: This story is about their friendship rather than any romantic involvement. I have nothing against it, but it's not really for me!**

**Summary: When a spell goes wrong at Shiz, Galinda and Elphaba wind up forward in time by 20 years. There they meet the formerly 'Wicked' Witch of the West, who is oddly familiar. Can the two estranged witches put aside their differences and work together to save their own future?**

**_Four Point Compass_**

_**1.**_

Stupid green-skinned…stupid…um…toad-face! Ugh. The very sight of her made Galinda want to throw up. 'Accidentally' spilling gnarlsom root sap right in Galinda's direction! And she was wearing her new, latest-thing straight from the Emerald City shoes, as well! Now the little green bows on the edge of the heel were covered in sticky, gelatinous brown, and she was pretty sure that stuff wasn't coming off anytime soon.

"Miss Glinda, please _pay_ _attention_! What did I just say?"

Galinda scowled and pouted, whirling on the bench to fix Doctor Dillamond with an icy glare. It was Galinda. Ga-Lin-Da. Was it really so hard to pronounce one tiny, teensy weensy little 'a', for Oz's sake?

"You were…uh…telling us all about pixie dust, Sir."

She muttered sullenly, shooting a glare across the aisle at the bowed form of the source of all her displeasure. Elphaba refused to meet her gaze, and simply continued calmly taking notes, the smallest of quirks at the edges of her dark green lips indicating the presence of a smirk. Frustrated, Galinda huffed, slammed a fist down on the edge of the bench and folded her arms, continuing her perusal of her ruined shoes.

Doctor Dillamond cleared his throat, and continued.

"As I was saying. Pixie dust is among the rarest of substances in all of Oz. Not much is known of the Pixie race, only that they were said to have great prowess in the magical arts. Their full capabilities are unknown, but it is believed they once lent their talents to those they deemed worthy to manipulate time and space, and…oh, yes, Miss Elphaba?"

Galinda's head shot up, to see Elphaba had momentarily ceased in her attentive note-taking to ask a question.

"Sir. I have heard that the Pixie race once resided here in Oz, but that one day they simply vanished, leaving only small traces of themselves through dust found in dark, forgotten places. Is it true?"

Galinda rolled her eyes to the ceiling, and began examining the nails upon her right hand while Dillamond praised Elphaba for her knowledge. Teacher's pet. She would be a goody-goody-two-shoes if she wasn't so ugly and green. Hm. The edge of the right forefinger nail seemed to be a little sharp. She would have to file it later.

"…indeed, that is so. Pixie dust is said to have many qualities, depending on how one uses it. When consumed, the consumer is blessed with extremely good luck for many years, only to meet a most unfortunate and usually painful end by combustion. Magically, Pixie dust is unreliable. It is rumoured to seemingly act of it's own accord, initiating magic at any given point in response to verbal or mental instructions, whether intentional or non."

Once again, a long-fingered hand (with quite horrifically neglected bitten nails, she might add) ascended into the air, and Galinda pulled a retching face at her fellow bench-mates, who grinned in mocking sympathy, and nodded.

"Can you give an example, Sir?"

Doctor Dillamond stroked his forked beard, considering the question, a deep frown set in his rather comical features. Both Galinda and a few scattered others giggled, and Dillamond puffed out his chest, flushing a little, and paced as he spoke.

"Why, um…yes, of course…uh…for example: there is a story, of an ambitious young man, who though poor, was very intelligent. He craved fortune, but had little prospects, working as a servant for the Governor of a far away land. It is said when sweeping in the gardens of the Governor's Manor one day, he discovered some strange silver powder."

Galinda found herself listening attentively despite herself. Glancing briefly around, she saw every other student in the class staring unblinkingly at Dillamond also. She sniffed in disdain, but continued to listen, nonetheless.

"Believing it to be of some worth, he immediately began dreaming of wealth and fortune. But instead of selling it, he kept in a small pouch in his breast pocket. Over the next few days, he found that as he swept the pavestones each morning in the garden, the grey dust he collected turned golden and solid."

Galinda clasped her hands in her laps and smiled. She loved stories like these, of incredible deeds and strange happenings. She had always loved fairy tales as a child. It was one of the main reasons she wished to learn magic, to become like the people in such tales…powerful enough to be adored, to make a difference.

"Now, as you can imagine, the young man quickly grew obscenely rich. Eventually he himself became Governor. For a while, the land prospered under his rule, but the richer he grew, the greedier he became. Then, one day almost precisely five years after he had first discovered the strange powder in the gardens, he somehow accidentally swallowed a particularly large pebble of gold and choked to death. Curious, isn't it?"

Doctor Dillamond said, mildly. Galinda shuddered in revulsion, the mental image of a handsome (of course) man turning purple in the face, choked on his own ambition a little too grotesque for her liking. Horribly ironic, too. That was the point, she supposed. She didn't want to hear any more of this business.

"Sir…is there any Pixie dust left in Oz?"

A hopeful voice from somewhere near the back of the class piped up. Immediately everybody sat up straighter, rapt with attention. Everyone except Elphaba, of course, who was looking around in disgust. Personally, Galinda was just as eager to hear the answer to _that _question as the majority.

Doctor Dillamond hesitated, looking taken aback, faced with a sea of overly eager faces before him.

"Uh, well, um…as a matter of fact, I am in possession of a very small amount myself…but you must understand, it cannot be bent towards a single person's will. It will only take effect if it is supposed to."

Immediate uproar drowned out the elderly Professor's feeble protests:

"Oh, please, Sir, just a quick look!"

"It might just work, right?"

"Oh, just imagine-!"

"SILENCE!"

Dillamond roared a little hoarsely, but the effect was instantaneous. He stared intensely at the now quietened class, studying every face in turn, his gaze lingering upon Elphaba's features. Galinda glanced over and saw that Elphaba seemed to be fighting an internal battle. Of course. The ever righteous yet so, so ambitious Elphaba would find extreme difficulty _not _being interested by such a surreal prospect.

Galinda wouldn't mind a peek herself, actually. Dillamond sighed, his shoulders slumping.

"Oh, very well," he said, resignedly "but only if we all remain calm, and pass it around in silence and without fuss. I must also stress that you are all heading for a disappointment. The likelihood of anything happening whatsoever is about as likely as…oh…Miss Galinda's shoes ever being restored to their former glory; I fear we are all very much aggrieved."

He said, sarcastically. Galinda felt her face flush hotly as the entire class laughed, and she cast her eyes down to said ruined shoes. She knew it was silly, really, but these shoes had been important to her, and it had taken a long time for them to come all the way from the capital city of Oz. She had always wanted to go to the Emerald City and, well…who knew? These shoes might have been as close as she could get, a little snatch of glory she might never gain.

Raising her head defiantly, she glared around, and was surprised to see that Elphaba was not among those laughing. Instead, the green-skinned girl was watching Galinda's face intently, frowning slightly in confusion and possibly even…_sympathy_? Galinda huffed, and snapped her head away. She did not need anyone's pity. Especially not _hers._

"Oh, please, do be careful, Mr Boq! Gently, gently, now…"

Galinda tapped her foot impatiently as several long minutes passed, the pixie dust being eagerly handed along the benches. So far, all had been met with disappointment. The small pouch of glittering silver powder was just thus; a pouch of powder. No loud bangs, no flashes of magical light. Zit, zippo, zilch, nada. Nothing. It was all rather anticlimactic, Galinda thought.

'Famous last words', as the saying goes. Galinda should have known not to think such a thing. Piously declaring something with magical prowess 'anticlimactic' always leads to trouble, as fate seems to posses a rather vindictively ironic sense of humour. As it was, the bored blonde suspected nothing as she watched Elphaba handle the pouch with reverend awe, peering cautiously through the stringed opening.

Galinda yawned absently, the tapping of her foot increasing in pace, reflecting her irritation. A full minute passed, and Elphaba continued to study the small pouch in great detail, pinching a little of the powder between forefinger and thumb and holding it up before her face, squinting at it.

The last trickles of patience Galinda possessed ran dry, and she abruptly leant across the aisle and made a wild grab for the pouch. Elphaba snapped her head around in surprise, and her eyes narrowed as she held the pouch just out of reach. For a moment, the two simply glared at each other.

Elphaba broke first.

"What do you think you're doing?"

She demanded incredulously, as Galinda pursed her lips in frustration and made another sweeping snatch, which Elphaba narrowly avoided. Suddenly, both women had jumped to their feet, and before they even knew it were locked in a vicious struggle for the glorified prize.

"You've had it for an age, pass it here!"

Galinda snapped loudly, digging her fingers into the green-skinned forearms beneath her hands in an attempt to free the pouch from the iron grip Elphaba held it in. Elphaba winced at the pain and shoved back, outraged.

"Let go! You'll spill it!"

Galinda pushed back, harder, the loud protests of Doctor Dillamond and the class provoking their mutual anger and stirring something deep and dangerous inside the pair.

"Give it me!"

Galinda's palm caught Elphaba in the face.

"NO! Let GO!"

The elbow of Elphaba's free hand swung around, connecting hard with Galinda's jaw. The struggle grew more and more frenzied as the pair grappled fiercely with each other, a few unnoticed blows actually drawing blood from skin both peach and green.

"GIVE IT – AH!"

Both Galinda and Elphaba cried out in shock as a resounding ripping sound filled the now strangely empty air. For a fraction of a second, their eyes met, a mutual realisation bringing them together to share a sickening moment of terror, and they watched in horror as the pouch split cleanly down the middle.

In slow motion, the silver powder was tossed into the air around them in an explosion of bright, blinding, pearly grey mist. Galinda ceased to breath as the dust seemed to hang in mid air, undecided, stirred by the raw emotion still lingering, imprinted by the echoes of the fight.

"Ooops."

Was all Galinda could force out, before her world exploded into pure, blinding white light and a horrible sensation of weightlessness. Chaos descended upon them, blurred colours and shapes spinning around, faster and faster. People were screaming, shouting:

"Miss Elphaba! Miss Galinda!"

"Somebody do something, make it stop!"

"I can't see anything!"

"Help!"

Galinda clenched her eyes tightly shut as the voices faded, and curled in on herself as she was buffeted this way and that by an unseen force. Pressure built higher and higher, pressing in on her from all sides, suffocating, painfully claustrophobic. She dared to peek her eyes open.

A single blurred shape was unclearly defined within the endless blinding whiteness. She squinted. Green and black, she thought, and her heart sank. Above the roaring and the rush of hot air which whirled around her, she could just make out a quiet, disgruntled mutter:

"Oh, great. Just _perfect._"

Flushing hotly, she opened her mouth to snap a haughty response, but cried out in surprise when the blurred form (which was unmistakably a certain green-skinned fellow classmate) was whipped away too, leaving her quite alone in the penetrating blankness. Nauseous, she whimpered breathlessly, and twisted her fists in her hair as she was tossed and thrown in the chaos.

WHAM.

Pain immediately assaulted every fibre of her senses as she was abruptly slammed into something reassuringly solid. She could practically feel her flesh compress and her veins constrict under the sudden pressure, before a hot ache broke over the pain and bruising blossomed all along her left side.

In shock, she lay sprawled and quite still, choosing to remain blind rather than face what was undoubtedly one more shock than her abused body and mind could handle. Breathing heavily, she opened her mouth, swallowed, and felt the familiar cold of faintness overcome her fading consciousness.

"This…has not…been my day…"

She murmured hoarsely, before the darkness swallowed her whole and she slumped bonelessly to the ground, surrendering to blessed, empty nothingness.

**A/N: Good, bad, terrible? Please review and let me know if I should continue! Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks so much to all those who reviewed! Your encouragement means a lot. **

**IMPORTANT: Elphaba and Galinda left Shiz before they properly met Fiyero or Boq, so they do not recognise them (as the scarecrow or the tin man). They have been transported to a few short weeks after Elphaba 'melted', and so Elphaba and Fiyero are on the run, and Glinda is Prime Minister...but not for long. All is not well in the Land of Oz!**

**Hope that clears the timelines up!**

**_Compass Point_**

**_2._**

"That wretched, sodding, prissy spoilt BRAT!"

Elphaba was furious. No, scratch that, she was beyond furious. She was _livid. _Here she was, thoroughly bruised all along her back, sitting in the middle of a neat brick road which was a sickeningly cheerful shade of yellow. And why? Because some stuck up, poncy, air-brained blonde had decided she wanted to act like a toddler.

Still grumbling creatively to herself, she leant her weight on her palms and sat up straighter, gazing a little dazedly around at the landscape. Wooden fencing lined the road, with a field of poppies to her left, and what was seemingly wheat plantations to her right. It would have been an entirely pleasant sort of place if everything didn't seem a little…false. The poppies were too perfect, too unspoiled, and the wheat was lined up in rigid, unnatural order. She wrinkled her nose and glanced up at the sky. It was overcast, grey clouds indicating the threat of rain.

Overall, it seemed rather sinister.

"Oh for the love of…"

A distant rumble of thunder personified her thoughts, and she glared coldly at the horizon, daring it to rain. Almost immediately, she felt the first light splatterings of water on her cheeks, and she slammed a clenched fist down on the yellow paving in frustration.

Where on Oz was she?

"Something tells me I'm not at Shiz anymore. Well, obviously. So where am I? Foreign land? But…it looks like Oz, just…"

She sighed and shivered as she spoke aloud to herself. It was a habit difficult to break. This place did resemble Oz uncannily, but it seemed somehow…different. Colder, more empty. Maybe it was just her perception of things, but the land seemed worn out, almost. Weary.

Suddenly, the noise of footsteps and the crunch of crushed foliage came from her immediate right, and she hastily scrambled to her feet as a voice penetrated the tense quiet of the lonely road:

"Fabala, shouldn't we be getting along now? We don't want the Emerald City Guard catching wind of our-"

Elphaba stared in blatant astonishment as the tall barricade of wheat parted neatly to reveal quite the oddest person she had ever seen. He was wearing torn, dull coloured coarse clothes rather like that of a farmer, and was awkwardly walking very unsteadily. With shock, she realised why. His entire body was made of straw; she could see it poking out of the numerous holes in his attire, and his hands, feet and face all seemed to be made of a skin-like material.

The walking, talking scarecrow glanced up and noticed Elphaba also, and his strange face contorted into an expression somewhere between alarm and confusion. For a moment, all either astounded party could do was stare. Finally, the scarecrow man spoke, uncertainly, edging carefully forwards.

"Fabala? Elphaba?"

Elphaba did not immediately answer. Instead she warily took a step back, self-consciously reaching to smooth down her skirt. She cleared her throat and adjusted her glasses on her nose, before clasping her hands in front of her and replying.

"I'm sorry, have we met?"

She managed, as politely as she could, trying not to stare rudely at the…well…straw man. She was desperately attempting to suppress the wave of panic which was threatening to overcome her. Her back ached, she was tired and she was hungry, and Lurline, she wanted to _kill _something. Namely, something blonde and pink.

The scarecrow man's eyes narrowed, and he looked her over, seemingly unperturbed by the fact she was green and more by the fact she was there at all. He glanced around them, up at the sky, and finally settled on stating bluntly:

"I'm sorry, my mistake. You're not Elphaba."

Elphaba snorted in affront, folding her arms neatly across her chest defensively. Whoever knew supposedly 'inanimate' objects could be so rude?

"And _you're_ not human. I'd be most obliged if you would elaborate and how I came to be here, oh straw-filled one."

The scarecrow blinked in surprise at her sarcasm, and looked a little taken aback, but Elphaba didn't much care. The scarecrow opened his mouth, changed his mind, frowned, and finally managed to splutter out:

"Who are you? And why are you wearing Elphaba's clothes from Shiz!"

Elphaba latched onto the familiar word, eagerly taking a step forward. Perhaps she was as far out of the way as she had supposed. Perhaps she had simple moved to some corner of Oz, and she just had to find her way back to the city.

"You know of Shiz? Well then, perhaps you can help me out. You see, Doctor Dillamond, have you heard of him?"

She wasn't sure what possessed her, but she suddenly had the urge to explain her entire situation in disturbing detail. Maybe she just needed to vent some pent up frustration.

"Er…well…yes, I knew him, but…"

The scarecrow, meanwhile, was extremely unnerved by her sudden enthusiasm, and before Elphaba knew it, she was recounting her tale animatedly to this odd creature who she had barely met.

"Good. You see, Doctor Dillamond was teaching a lesson about pixie dust, and we passed some round, but this really annoying little blonde girl called Galinda – what kind of a name is that? Anyway, this girl, Galinda, who's my roommate by the way, Oz help me, tried to snatch the pixie dust from me and it split and then somehow it transported me to this Lurline forsaken place and I was wondering if you'd know how I could get back, if you would be so kind."

Elphaba drew in a deep breath, and sighed contentedly. Yes. That felt so much better. She was fine now, she was okay. She was coping well with the situation. As for the rambling…she had always had a rather unfortunate tendency to spout endless streams of words when faced with situations of extreme stress and/or aggravation. Another one of those unbreakable habits which endeared her so to the general population. Ha.

"Thanks for listening to that. I felt the need to get it off my chest. Now."

She rubbed her hands together, glad to finally be getting down to business.

"Where, precisely, am I?"

The scarecrow seemed to drag himself from his stunned stupor, and shook his head briefly, sending fragments of straw cascading about his head. Elphaba raised an eyebrow expectantly, not feeling at her most patient.

"You're in the land of Oz…a couple of leagues down the yellow brick road from the Emerald City. But tell me…you…you spoke of someone named Galinda. You…you don't mean…?"

Elphaba rolled her eyes as her thoughts turned once again to _Galinda. _If she had a penny every time she came up with a new word to describe that girl, she'd be Empress of Oz by now. The current favourite was 'infuriating', closely associated with 'prissy bauble' and 'hypocritical creampuff'. Very creative, if she said so herself.

"I sure as hell wish I didn't, but yes. Speaking of which…"

Elphaba trailed off, frowning. She had been transported here…why, she didn't know, but due to the fact that Galinda had played a mutual part in the chain of events which led to her arrival, it was likely that the pink wonder was here, also. Which meant that Elphaba had an obligation to find said pink wonder _before _getting the hell out of here. She sighed resignedly.

"Oh, I should probably go and find the frilly ponce, shouldn't I?"

Elphaba muttered to herself, attempting to quash the urge to leave the silly idiot right where she was so Elphaba could finally get a room to herself. Fortunately for Galinda, she was an honourable person, no matter what others may think of her, or rather, her skin colour. Nobody deserved to be left alone in a foreign place if it could be helped, even Galinda, although it was tempting.

"Listen, Mr-?"

The scarecrow shuffled his feet nervously, eyes flitting around, refusing to meet her gaze.

"Oh. I'm…uh…I'm known as the scarecrow, but my true name is…well…Fiyero."

He stared hard at her, as though waiting for something, to gauge her response, maybe? There was an odd gleam in his eyes that was slightly unnerving, and Elphaba nodded absently and smoothed her skirt once again.

"Well, Mr Fiyero. Tell me, have you seen another girl somewhere around here? Pretty short, a little plump, blonde wavy hair? She'd have been wearing a white dress, and a… a blue scarf."

The scarecrow's – no – Fiyero's eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, all he could do was gape at her. Elphaba felt suddenly suspicious. There was something entirely…not right…about the way Fiyero was acting. As though he had cause to be shocked by her presence, and by the mention of where she had come from. Well, she supposed it would be a bit much for anyone, randomly meeting a person claiming to have simply dropped in from out of nowhere, but still. She felt distinctly uneasy.

"No, I'm afraid I haven't. I'm sorry; I didn't catch your name…?"

Fiyero continued to give her that odd, gleaming look, and she bristled indignantly under such scrutiny.

"Oddly enough, my name _is _Elphaba. But I very much doubt I'm the one you seem to know. What is this, a parallel universe? And another thing. How come you're a scarecrow, yet you can walk and talk? Are you enchanted or something?"

A flash of something dark clouded her strange companion's eyes, and he cast his head down, seemingly to physically shy away from her. She felt a little guilty. She barely knew this…person…and yet already she was being incredibly rude, and, apparently, hurtful.

"It's a very long story…Elphaba. Is that really your name? Because, if it is…I believe I may be able to help you."

Elphaba stiffened at that, unsure whether to be excited, relieved or suspicious. Fiyero the scarecrow (that sounded _so _weird) seemed sincere and harmless enough, but she couldn't help but wonder.

"How so?"

She asked, hesitantly. He smiled mysteriously, and turned away, clasping his hands behind his back in an entirely un-scarecrow like gesture, straightening his back as best he could. He possessed the poise of someone far more distinguished than a mere crop-protector.

"I know someone…someone who may have the answers to why and how you came to be here. If you would follow me, I could lead you to her."

Elphaba moved slowly to stand beside him, her eyes narrowed at his smug and slightly patronising expression. For a long minute, she considered his offer.

"How do I know I can trust you?"

Fiyero grinned widely, reaching up an awkward hand to adjust his skewed hat, which was a rather unimpressive patched and frayed thing.

"You don't. But there isn't much else you can do. Your friend-"

Elphaba felt a flush of hot anger at this misunderstanding.

"She's _not _my friend. We just…know each other. Vaguely."

Fiyero's eyes glittered knowingly, and she widened her eyes and lifted her hands in a universal gesture of 'what?'. He only shook his head, and chuckled under his breath.

"Your acquaintance, then. She could be absolutely anywhere in Oz right now, and that's a huge area in which to search. Plus, as you so observantly pointed out, I'm a scarecrow. Made of straw. Hardly a worthy adversary."

He said this a little bitterly, and Elphaba suddenly found herself both pitying this poor wretched creature and being intrigued by the sense of mystery which surrounded him. She had a feeling there was a very interesting story behind his odd predicament. Maybe this whole situation wasn't so bad after all. Maybe she should look at it more as an opportunity than an accident.

After all, fate tended to move in very mysterious ways, as they said. Perhaps the pixie dust had spilt for a reason; perhaps she and Galinda were _supposed _to come her. Which would mean that the accident wasn't entirely the blonde girl's fault, but still, Elphaba couldn't help but blame her. There was something about her roommate that struck a cord deep within her. She infuriated her, and she loathed the frilly creature with all her willpower…yet there was something else, too. Something deep and inexplicable.

Forcibly pulling herself from her musings, she raised herself up to her fullest height and stiffly extended her hand in a gesture of consent.

"Alright, then. Take me to this…person."

Fiyero the scarecrow grinned so widely it seemed to split his face in two, and he eagerly clasped her green hand in his own coarse, scratchy one, and they shook once before hastily releasing each other. Fiyero turned around to face a single way down the yellow brick road, and jerked his head, beckoning Elphaba to follow.

"Come on, we need to find her before nightfall, or we'll have to wait until tomorrow. And I've a feeling your eager to find your friend and get out of this place, no?"

Elphaba considered. Initially, yes, she would have given all the hair off her head to leave immediately. Now, though, not so much. And she _certainly _wasn't eager to find the frilly pink wonder that was Galinda, although she knew that was inevitable. After all, she couldn't leave without her, no matter how much of a brat the girl was. The prospect of this new place intrigued her, yet she couldn't shake a feeling of foreboding. There was weight in the pit of her stomach which silently warned her. Her hunches were never wrong.

Quite suddenly, she shivered, and hurried to catch up with the jovial pace of the scarecrow. Yes. She did want to leave this place, as soon as possible. Just not quite yet.

&&&&&&&

Not so far down the road in the direction Elphaba and Fiyero were heading, a dark figure cloaked all in black stood, rigidly still, staring down at the sprawled figure of Galinda of Munchkinland lying unconscious in the middle of the paving.

A cold wind caught the lip of the figure's dark hat, lifting it slightly, and the movement seemed to jar the figure from its shocked stupor. Hastily throwing a battered broomstick to the ground, the figure sank to its knees beside the sleeping girl, shaking all over and drawing its thick cloak closer about her with a pair of long-fingered hands. Lit by the light of the moon, its skin seemed to possess a pale greenish hue.

"Glinda?"

The quiet, hoarse exclamation belied utter disbelief, and echoed around the empty road as if affirming itself. The figure shook its head slowly from side to side, the smallest of hysterical smiles curling its emerald coloured lips.

"Sweet Oz…"

**A/N: Ooh, intrigue! Who is this mysterious figure? (Well DUH) Sorry, I'm not too good at this subtle suspense malarkey. **

**Should I continue to continue? Please review and let me know what you think! Thanks for reading! **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: A massive thanks to all those who reviewed! Sorry over the little mistake with Galinda in the last chapter, you are all correct, she is indeed from Gillikin, not Munchkinland! Thanks for pointing it out, guys! I've only read up to page 158 of the book, so it's not exactly clear in my mind just yet. **

**_Compass Point_**

**_3._**

"Glinda?"

Galinda came to herself slowly. Her entire body ached to the core, her very bones seeming bruised. She heard a groan, and realised it was her own voice. She was lying on something hard and uncomfortable, and something…no, _someone_…was patting her gingerly on the cheek.

"Glinda, wake up."

The voice was familiar, and yet not. She couldn't put a face to it. But oooooh, she hurt. This was utterly horrible. And she didn't really feel like waking up, but the voice sounded distressed, so she probably should. Drawing in a deep breath, she wiggled her fingers, and then her wrist, using her hands to push herself slowly upwards, eyes still clenched tightly closed.

Feeling the blood rush from her head, she was caught in a dizzy spell, and reeled. A cold hand loosely clasped her neck, holding her upright while it passed, but moved away the moment Galinda lifted her head and peeled her eyes open.

She was immediately assaulted by dim yet blinding light to her sore eyes, and snapped them shut again, reaching up shaking hands to bury her fingers in the hair at her temple and hold her head up. Moaning quietly, she drew her knees up with some difficulty and waited for the ground to stop spinning.

"Ow, my head…scratch that, my _everything. _Ugh."

She could smell flowers. Poppies, she thought. And an odd, musty smell from the person beside her. She knew that smell. It was the smell that lingered on the sheets in her dorm room; the one she tried to banish through the use of copious perfumes and scented oils to no avail.

Peeking her eyes open once again, she could just make out the outline of an unmistakable green face and a blur of black. She groaned, not from pain, but from annoyance.

"Oh, it's _you. _So you ended up in this place too, I take it? This is all your fault, I hope you realise."

Elphaba, for that was surely who it was, said nothing. Galinda huffed, and brushed the hair from her face, wincing when her fingers caught in some tangles. Oh, what a wretched situation to find oneself in! Stuck in some foreign place with nobody but the person you despise most in the world for company. Great. This was just her luck, she supposed.

Drawn out of her anger by Elphaba's uncharacteristic silence, Galinda blinked several times to clear her vision, and perceived the familiar emerald-coloured face staring at her with an unreadable expression. Something like…shock. Trepidation. Regret? Surely not.

Uncomfortable under the intensity of her companion's gaze, Galinda shifted skittishly, averting her eyes to stare at the brightly coloured yellow bricks upon which she was seated.

"Well, aren't you going to defend yourself?"

Still, Elphaba remained silent, unmoving. Galinda grew steadily more ill at ease, and concerned, despite herself.

"Okay, now you're starting to disturb me. Say something. Anything. Hello? Don't make me address you by name, we both hate having to raise ourselves to that level of communication."

This seemed to snap Elphaba out of whatever odd turn she had been entrenched in. She sat back on her heels, looking over Galinda's clothes with an odd expression on her face. Several times, she opened her mouth to speak, then seemed to think better of it. Finally, she spoke.

"Glinda? You _are _Glinda, aren't you?"

Galinda gave her an incredulous, affronted look.

"Not you as well! It's G-A-linda. Ga-linda. Is it really so difficult? And…wait." She blinked, suddenly noticing the strange clothes and hat Elphaba had on "What _are _you wearing!"

Elphaba was dressed entirely in black. The conventional masculine boots were just as odd as ever, but her dress seemed far too elaborate for anything she would normally wear. It had patterns woven into the material, and shaped sleeves and layers to the skirt. And that _HAT!_ Could anything be more ugly and conspicuous?

Actually…there was something very off here. Extremely, in fact. Elphaba seemed…different. Not just her clothing. Her manner of speech was more defined, her features harder to read, more controlled. She just seemed…different. Older, if that was possible.

"I…I think that we are both wildly mistaken." Elphaba eventually spluttered out, shaking her head "This is entirely impossible. You can't be…but you are Gl…Galinda? From Gillikin?"

Galinda stared long and hard at Elphaba for several moments.

"Have you been knocked silly by the fall, or something?"

She concluded, finding this the only logical explanation. Then again…who knew? Perhaps she had landed in a world where green-skinned people were common, and she had simply met a look-alike. But she was _sure _this was her roommate. Whether she liked it or not, she knew the girl, and this was either Elphaba or an uncannily similar clone.

"You misunderstand me." Possibly-Elphaba-but-possibly-not said, sighing in frustration "I am not the person I think that you think I am. I think. Wait…no. This is so confusing…"

Galinda blinked, and absently rubbed her temple, feeling a headache coming on.

"Could you repeat that? Because I didn't understand a word."

Possibly-Elphaba rolled her eyes and smoothed her skirt, the very picture of patronising patience.

"Now there's a novelty." She muttered, in the sarcastic tone only Elphaba could ever posses, and Galinda glared at her, climbing to her feet and placing her hands on her hips, exclaiming:

"You ARE Elphaba! That was a cruel, mean, horrible trick, you…you…you TOAD! Sometimes I wonder what prevents me from-"

"Your heels."

Galinda was halted mid-ramble by this observation. She blinked, looking down to see Possibly-now-almost-definitely-Elphaba eying her shoes with vague disgust.

"Excuse me?" She spluttered, feeling a veil of confusion fog up her brain. Perhaps the fall had knocked her harder than she had thought. Her vision swam, and she felt a hand on her elbow guide her back to the ground rather gracelessly. Maybe she was lying unconscious in the classroom at Shiz and this was merely some dream brought on my momentary madness.

Almost-definitely-Elphaba gave her a concerned look, before elaborating on her point.

"Your heels are what prevent you from carrying out whatever painful fate you intend to inflict upon me. It's a marvel you can even stand in those things. And what on earth is that brown stuff on the side?"

Finding it difficult to fully comprehend the implications of this statement, as Elphaba should know full well how the 'icky brown stuff' came to be there considering she was the cause of it, Galinda made a strangled noise of frustration and beat a fist against the road instead of attempting to understand.

"You are utterly infuriating!"

Her hand immediately welled up with pain at such rough treatment, and she cradled it to her chest, feeling suddenly faint and nauseous. Possibly-Elphaba regarded her with a calculating look, before shrugging unconcernedly.

"So I've been told. Could you stop hyperventilating for approximately forty seconds so I can ask you a serious question?"

Galinda's outrage peaked beyond ridiculous levels, and she scowled at her tormentor.

"I'm not _hyperventilating! _I am panicking in a dignified manner."

Possibly-Elphaba raised a dark eyebrow in scepticism.

"And this is…what? More classy?"

"_YES!_"

Galinda all but shrieked in hysteria, tapping her feet against the bricks of the road and whimpering quietly, suddenly aware that she was rocking from side to side. Possibly-Elphaba sat down carefully beside her, tucking her skirts neatly beneath her knees, adjusted her hat, then clasped her hands in her lap. Galinda stopped in her emotional exposition for a moment to watch curiously as Possibly-Elphaba drew her back up straight and closed her eyes, breathing deeply.

"What…what are you doing?"

She asked, her companion's odd behaviour making her feel wary. She shuffled a little away from her, self-consciously aware that apart from this girl who may or may not be her roommate, she was entirely alone.

"I'm waiting for you to be calm. I've been on the road for a long, long while and it's more comfortable for me to sit like this. Or are you ready to talk now?"

Galinda looked her over. This was not Elphaba. She was alike to her, strikingly so, but she possessed a maturity, patience and sobriety about her that Elphaba's fiery, passionate nature could never hope to achieve. No. No matter how much she resembled Elphaba, this girl…no, this _woman_…was a complete stranger.

"You're really not Elphaba?" She said, quietly, feeling suddenly shy and self aware. The woman smiled gently in sympathy, and shook her head slowly, and Galinda's conviction to the misplacement of her identity was reinforced tenfold. Elphaba spent her time in frowns and seclusion; Galinda had never seen her genuinely smile.

"I am not the person you think I am, no. Now. If you would be so kind as to enlighten me as to how you came to be here?"

Despite having only just met the lady, Galinda felt inexplicably comfortable with her now. She couldn't explain it. She seemed a reasonable sort of person, and no matter her odd appearance, Galinda was convinced that she would not hurt her.

Reluctant to recount the rather odd chain of events which led to her being here, Galinda considered the most concise way to explain.

"Long story short…a cat fight and some pixie dust." The woman gave her an enquiring look, and feeling light-headed again, Galinda smiled and blurted out "I like what you've done with your hair, by the way. Not so sure about the clothes. You could do with a little more colour in there."

The woman laughed softly, giving her an almost fond, reminiscent look. She frowned. That was odd. Instead of dwelling on the fact, Galinda did what she always did when faced with a problem: consult any fashion problems in the immediate vicinity. The upper layer of the woman's dark hair was pulled back into a loose but tidy half-bun, leaving the rest to spill over her shoulders and back. Galinda wondered if Elphaba's hair could do the same, then smiled wryly to herself. She doubted she'd ever find out. Like she'd ever _want _to touch _Elphaba's _hair, anyway.

All that black, however, was hardly a cheerful appearance to look at. It was immensely depressing, in fact.

"Black is a colour." The woman returned, giving her a shocked expression of false hurt, but her smile betrayed her amusement. Galinda was struck with sudden inspiration.

"No, it's the absence of colour, or, more specifically, the absence of light, which _is _the absence of colour."

The woman blinked in surprise, and laughed again, looking genuinely surprised.

"Behold, the remnants of a brain beneath the platinum façade! By the way, I think _your _hair would look better with more curls. Just a thought."

Galinda reached up a hand to touch her wavy blonde locks, rather tangled and all together undesirable at the moment, and imagined how it would be for them to be tightly curled. She wrinkled her nose in indecision.

"You think so? I have wondered, but- wait a minute!" She felt a stab of suspicion, coming back to herself, and her bizarre situation "If you're really not Elphaba, which I find difficult to believe because just how many green people are there in the world, then why in Oz's name are you talking to me?"

The woman cleared her throat and looked at Galinda with a piercing gaze.

"I found you unconscious in the middle of the road and I am using the art of general conversation to ascertain whether you gained severe head injuries or whether you are just mentally limited."

"Oh." Galinda felt a pang of despair, the full reality of her position sinking in. This world was too large, this situation too great for her. Her eyes burnt and she sniffed, shivering, feeling suddenly frightened.

"I want to go home." She murmured, then flushed in embarrassment at her childishness. She twisted her hands in her lap, bowing her head and desperately willing the tears away. The woman hesitated, then lifted her hand and laid it consolingly on Galinda's shoulder.

"I may be able to help you. Maybe. But first…how old are you? And where have you come from?"

Galinda hastily wiped her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. This was hardly the time or the place to lose control of herself.

"I'm nineteen. And as you seem to already know, I'm from Gillikin. But I was at my University, I mean, at Shiz, if that's what you mean." She looked nervously around at the landscape, the unfamiliar fields and the road, and the sky, darkened in such a way that she had never seen in Oz.

"Am I even in Oz anymore?" She murmured, so quietly she wondered if the woman had even heard it. Apparently, she had.

"Yes, you are. But not the Oz you know, I am almost certain of that."

Galinda decided to simply accept this, as she felt too weary to bother going into hysterics any longer. She didn't have the energy. Turning to her strange companion, she paused for a moment, and sighed.

"And who are you, exactly?"

The woman gasped in a sharp breath, but quickly covered it with a cough. Galinda resigned herself to the fact that she would probably never fully understand her strange companion.

"You may call me Fabala. I am the former Witch of the West." Fabala said, a little stiffly. Galinda, however, was too excited at hearing the mention of magic to be concerned.

"You know sorcery? Wait…" her eyes widened in sudden fear "you're not a wicked witch, are you? You're not evil?"

Fabala's eyes glimmered suddenly darker, seeming immeasurably old, and sad. Galinda immediately regretted she had said such a silly thing. But Fabala did not seem angry at her impertinence, instead tilting her head to stare up at the sky, seemingly lost in thought.

"How does one define evil? Evil is in the eye of the beholder. To the fly and the coward, the spider is evil. To itself, the spider is merely surviving. Where is the sense in that?"

Shifting uncomfortably, Galinda's mouth once more ran away with itself:

"I _hate _spiders." She muttered sullenly, shuddering at the thought.

"I figured you would." Fabala said, amused, but…bitter. Wistful, somehow. Galinda found she could not ignore this latest strange statement. Feeling compelled to express her confusion, she blurted out:

"There is something…wrong about you. You know something. You knew my name. Lurline, maybe you even know why I came here. How? Surely it is not your magical powers alone. You say I am in Oz, yet not the Oz I know. You speak in riddles. And why should you help me, anyway? I don't even know you."

Breathing heavily after her outburst, she found herself once again glaring suspiciously at this woman who she had already shared laughter and tears with. Perhaps people bonded quickly under extreme stress. Or perhaps, as she suspected, there was something more to all of this.

"I am sorry, but I cannot tell you anymore than I have told you already." Fabala said, with genuine regret "There is too much at stake. Safe to say I am obligated to help you, for reasons I cannot disclose. I can get you home. But it may take some time. And you will have to trust me."

Galinda smiled bitterly, throwing her hands up into the air in exasperation.

"Trust you? I barely know you! We met fifteen minutes ago!"

Fabala shrugged and rolled her shoulders, wincing slightly.

"You are hardly in a position to be worrying about that; face it. You're in a foreign place, you're alone, and I think you may have mild concussion. You know nothing of this place, and believe me, it is extremely dangerous, especially for you. Right now, I'm your best bet for survival."

Galinda pouted at the inescapable logic of this conclusion, and crossed her arms sulkily over her chest, shooting a sideways glance at Fabala.

"I think I would have almost _preferred _Elphaba finding me than you. And that's saying something."

Fabala jerked suddenly, but her features betrayed no emotion. Galinda filed the thought away for later perusal, deciding she would keenly observe her companion from now on. It wasn't like she had anything better to do, anyway.

"You wish to find this Elphaba?"

Galinda sighed resignedly, thinking of her aggravatingly stoic roommate. She would love to leave the sulky hussy here and let her fend for herself, she truly would, but she had a feeling she may be here for some time. It would make her feel better to have someone familiar, if not in the least desirable, with her.

"Oh…I suppose I must. She's the only person I can really trust if she is here, although don't think I'm happy about any of this, because I most certainly am not."

Fabala nodded, rising slowly to her feet and retrieving a broomstick Galinda had not noticed before from the ground.

"I too seem to have misplaced my comrade, my travelling partner, so we shall search together. That is, if you don't still consider me evil and therefore expect me to strip you of your valuables and sacrifice you to some hairy God."

Fabala quipped jokingly, or at least Galinda hoped she did. She gave her a disturbed look.

"Are you?"

Fabala looked mortally offended.

"No! I only worship well-shaven Gods." She said with mock-snobbishness, raising her nose high into the air. Galinda laughed nervously, but kept her distance nonetheless.

"That's cruel. You're being very mean to me." She said, reproachfully. Fabala raised her eyebrows in question as she adjusted her travelling cloak about her shoulders.

"Is that an acceptance?"

Fabala asked. Galinda sighed, and rose painfully and reluctantly to her feet, wincing a little at the protest from her still bruised body. Finally standing relatively steadily, she drew herself up and looked Fabala in the eye.

"Fine. I don't like this, and I don't trust you as far as I could throw you, which is a negative distance considering the fact I can probably barely lift you. But yes. I accept."

It was a lie. Not about the lifting, because Galinda had never lifted anything heavier than a hairbrush in her life, but the statement that she did not trust her companion. Because she did, despite herself, and it was that which frightened her. A cold wind blew across their path, and she shivered, wrapping her arms tightly around herself for warmth.

"Well, you are pretty weedy, for someone of your build."

Fabala observed bluntly, and Galinda caught sight of the smallest of smiles curling her lips as she turned away and began to walk. Incensed, Galinda could only throw her hands into the air once again and stomp after, ignoring the way her heels dug into her feet.

"I'm not sure which is worse, being stuck in this Hell of a place or being stuck in this Hell of a place with _you_."

Fabala only laughed and increased her pace, so that Galinda had to practically skip to keep up. The sky overhead seemed to darken, the air to thicken, and she could just _feel _the rain coming on. After a few minutes of silence, amused on Fabala's part, infuriated on Galinda's, Oz's newest drop-in came up with an incredibly mature response to her humiliation:

"I've just decided I detest you." She muttered, entirely oblivious to how Fabala stiffened.

"It wouldn't be the first time." The former not-so-wicked Witch of the West responded in a whisper, but Galinda, too absorbed in her own troubles, didn't hear her.

**A/N: Sorry for the lack of plot development so far! In the next chapter the four should meet up and things should get going, but I needed them all to meet separately first. **

**Please review and let me know what you think! Thanks for reading, and Merry Christmas!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry about the wait, I was really busy over Christmas (what with all the obscure relatives to meet and greet, and lots of presents which required attention) but its here, finally! Enjoy. **

_**Compass Point**_

_**4.**_

Glinda, the Good Witch of the North and Prime Minister of the Land of Oz, was having a bad day. No, not just bad. _Terrible._ Firstly, she had awoken to find herself not lying sprawled comfortably on her king-sized bed, but curled up on the floor with a pile of bedclothes tangled around her. This had not been a good start. Then the left heel of her favourite pair of shoes decided to snap, prompting a painful reunion with the floor; the first of many bumps and bruises she would gain that day.

A string of unfortunate accidents had stalked her all morning. Her breakfast had been burnt, she'd spilled her morning tea and the sleeve of her dress had caught on a candlestick and ripped. But all this wasn't the worst of it. Not by a long shot.

As she surveyed the practically liquefied metal of what was once the barred door to a particularly dingy cell, she wondered just how much worse things could get. The guard who had alerted her to this newest piece of bad news shifted uncomfortably beside her, looking incredibly guilty.

"I'm so sorry, madam. The door was secure, and I thought I heard a noise up the east stairs, so I just left for a minute or two to investigate. By the time I returned…"

The guard trailed off, gesturing wordlessly at the decimated door with a wince. It was certainly an impressive sight. The entirety of the metal crossbars which had once stood stiffly in place had seemingly melted, forming a solid pool of iron at the foot of the door. A gaping hole through which it was possible to squeeze mocked Glinda as she stood before it.

She drew a deep breath, pinched the bridge of her nose and pushed a few stray curls from her face, feeling an ache coming on in her head to join that of the rest of her body.

"Do not worry, soldier. This is not your fault. No doubt the treachery of Madame Morrible would have fooled any man in your place."

The guard heaved a sigh of relief and smiled gratefully, if a little tightly.

"Oh, thank you, my lady. But…how on Oz did she manage it, if you don't mind my asking? Some sort of witchcraft?"

Glinda frowned grimly, her mind conjuring up an image of Morrible's gleeful smile, taunting her. The old hag could be anywhere in the Emerald City by now, if not beyond it.

"We can only guess. I assume she managed to conceal some sort of concoction on her person, and then wait for the right moment to act. How long has she been free?"

The guard pulled at the leather strap of his helmet, stiffening, his face twisting in a grimace as he struggled to remember. Glinda waited patiently. After all, she wasn't really in a hurry to confront this particular problem.

"About a quarter of a clock-face, madam, or there abouts. What are your orders concerning the prisoner? Should I inform the Captain of the Guard?"

Glinda thought, idly twirling her wand in her hands as she did so. It wouldn't do much good to send out a search party. Madame Morrible would be far away by now, and practically impossible to locate without the use of magic. And even then, Glinda wasn't sure if her own magic was a match for the old University Mistress. She was only just mastering reading the Grimmerie properly, let alone casting successful spells.

Still, the citizens of Oz would expect some sort of action, so action she would give them.

"Yes, soldier. Please hurry to the Captain and inform him of the circumstances. Instruct him to send out search parties within and around the city; if anything is found, report back to me immediately."

The guard, relieved to have an excuse to leave, saluted her hastily and hurried from the room. The clank of his armour soon faded into the cold recesses of the palace walls, and Glinda felt her entire body slump in exhaustion. And it was only just after midday, as well.

Oh, what in Lurline's name was she to _do?_

Only a few short weeks in government, and what had she accomplished? Not a lot. She had set up a court of leaders from the different provinces, but all they did was argue. She had petitioned for the lifting of some of the bans on Animals, but this was met with immediate uproar and accusations of disrespect for the Wizard. Despite his absence, the people still adored his memory.

And now, _this. _Madame Morrible, the one person in all of Oz who could still make Glinda shudder in fear, had escaped. No doubt she would soon begin reaping mayhem within the outer regions. Maybe even attempt to overthrow Glinda herself. The witch of the North felt the cold claw of despair clench about her heart, and she swallowed. She was no good at this. She didn't know what to do. She wasn't ready.

And oh, how she hated being _alone. _Everyday, nothing but smiling and giving orders and arguing with prissy, stuck-up fools in stupid wigs over basic decency. She was sick of it all. She felt like she was trapped in one of her own bubbles, suspended high above the world in cold isolation.

And all the while, with the pressure and the loneliness and the farce, the raw grief of her loss made her heart stretch so hard in her chest she felt it would split in two.

"Oh, Elphie…"

The words had left her mouth almost of their own accord, and she bit her lip, sliding to the paved stones of the dungeon floor. She might as well be locked in one of those cells; she was a prisoner in a golden cage with gilded bars. But it was a prison, nonetheless.

"You'd know what to do. It should be you here, doing this, not me. I can't do this. Not without you. I thought I could, but I…"

She bowed her head, thinking of how pathetically slowly she was learning the language of the Grimmerie, how unsuccessful she was in restoring Animal rights, how little she had achieved. Elphaba would have been ashamed of her. No, no she wouldn't. She would have been _disappointed_, and that was even worse.

_And look at you, Glinda! You can do all I could never do._

That was what she had said, right before she handed over the Grimmerie. Right before she…right before that wretched little farm girl had…

Glinda felt a stab of pain in her chest as a sob tore itself from her, and she realised belatedly that hot tears had gathered in her eyes. Oh, not again. Elphaba had always hated crying, especially when it was Glinda doing it. It was weak. Pathetic. But that was how Glinda felt, and so, why not?

"I'm not as strong as you. I never was. I wish you were here, Elphie. I miss you so much, and it hurts. It hurts so much I feel like I'm dying with you."

Elphaba would have called that melodramatic, and probably would have laughed and called Glinda silly. Maybe it was silly, but it was also the truth. Nonetheless…she wasn't doing anyone any good by wallowing in her own misery. Just who was she helping by sitting and weeping all day? No-one.

"Oh get up and quit the waterworks, Glinda, you silly idiot."

She muttered to herself, then laughed to herself a little hysterically, because she had sounded precisely like her green-skinned friend then.

No.

No more thoughts like that. No more misery, no more crying. She couldn't keep doing this to herself. She would have to put aside her grief in order to honour Elphaba's memory. Once she had done that…once the land of Oz prospered in peace and harmony…who knew? Maybe by then she would be old. She hoped so. Maybe she would die, alone, but…content.

Scrubbing at her eyes fiercely, Glinda drew in a sharp breath and sat up, shaking her head furiously at herself.

"Alright, then. I'll…I'll keep trying. For you. I will. You always said, you wanted better things for this land, and…and I'm the only one who can fulfil that dream of yours. So I'll keep going. Okay? I promised, so-"

Loud, stumbling footsteps interrupted her, and she snapped her head around and scrambled to her feet as the soldier she had sent away appeared in the doorway. For a moment he stood quite still, panting heavily, as well he might. The guard tower was all the way across the courtyard. Finally he caught his breath, and gasped out:

"Oh, my lady, lady Glinda! Come quick! Something wonderful has happened!"

Glinda raised an eyebrow, suspicious. Well, it would be the first time today. Surely this was some kind of mistake?

She followed the guard at a brisk pace, confused at his face, which held an expression of pure ecstasy. He led her up a flight of stairs to the West battlements, where she stepped out into the blinding sunshine with a wince.

The very air crackled with excitement. Joyous shouts and blurs of colours and shapes filled the palace, and as Glinda's eyes got used to the bright glare of daylight, she could see that the entirety of the Emerald City was heaving with people dancing and rejoicing in the streets. A seething mass of green. It made her feel slightly sick.

"Look! Look!"

"Look to the skies, up, up and away! Oh, happy day, happy, happy day!"

"Glinda the Good! Good news! Oh, such wonderful news!"

Oh, great. Fantastic. One of the members of the court seemed to have spotted her. Hastily plastering on a gentle smile, she turned to greet this particular member of the aristocracy. He was jogging towards her at an alarming pace, feathered hat askew, and she found it difficult to distinguish him from any other Lord.

Finally, she recognised him by his lewd strawberry-blonde beard. Ah. Lord Baal, of her own province of Gillikin. Although she hated to say such a thing of one of her own countrymen, Lord Baal was, inescapably, a smarmy bastard. His head was stuck so far up his own ass it was a wonder he couldn't talk out of his stomach.

Masking her detestation with a carefully monitored look of vague surprise at his arrival, Glinda fixed the obnoxious Lord with an inquiring gaze.

"What is it, Lord Baal? What is all this commotion about?"

He grinned, his cheeks bright red and shiny with sweat, and gestured upwards and to the West. Glinda frowned, and followed the direction he was pointing. After scanning the cloudy skies for a moment, she finally caught sight of the cause of all the furore.

The world stood still. Her blood seemed to freeze, and all warmth fled from her.

"Look, my dear Good Witch, look! There, on the horizon. The vessel of the Wizard! A great balloon! The Wizard has returned at last!"

And there it was. Starkly colourful against the greying clouds, drawing closer. A large wicker basket suspended below a huge bulb, like some giant, grotesque insect. Glinda could practically feel her heart beating in her throat, and was surprised to find she wasn't breathing.

"Oh." She gasped out, hoarsely.

What had she been saying about this day not getting any worse?

&&&&&&&

"So, Mr Fiyero…"

Fiyero almost jumped right out of his straw packing as Elphaba suddenly saw fit to strike up conversation. After about an hour of walking in silence, the scarecrow had begun to wonder whether his out-of-place companion had fallen asleep on her feet while walking. It was a very Elphaba thing to do; then again, this wasn't the Elphaba he knew. _She_ would probably claim it was economising on oxygen, then launch into a lecture about respiration and energy conservancy or some such scientific waffle. Fiyero didn't understand it when he had a brain, so he couldn't really expect to do so now.

Noticing Elphaba looking at him expectantly, he shook himself from his thoughts and winced as well as his stiff features would allow.

"Just Fiyero, please. 'Mister' makes me sound so _old._"

Elphaba remained impassive to this statement apart from the smallest quirk of a dark eyebrow. Fiyero had forgotten just how guarded and inexpressive Elphaba had been in her early years at Shiz. Lurline, that seemed so long ago now…

"Fair enough. Fiyero, then. It's rude to ask, but…were you once human, despite your…well…predicament?"

Despite the fact he had no beating heart, no physical body, Fiyero felt his chest tighten and grow cold. It was strange. He had hoped he wouldn't be able to feel pain any more, now that he was in this wretched form…but it seemed pain came from mere existence, rather than getting picky over having a vessel with which to inflict itself.

"Yes. Yes, I was." He said, quietly. Elphaba seemed not to notice his lack of comfort speaking on the subject, and instead continued her questioning with a slight frown.

"Sorcery?" She inquired without taking her eyes off the road. Fiyero resisted the urge to laugh bitterly.

"You could say that."

He had hung from that makeshift cross for hours. Crucified, practically. In the middle of a field. The poppies had looked like a sea of blood to his eyes then. That was all he could remember. Red and dark and pain. Then he had awoken, to find that his arms were no longer stiff from being tied to the beams. In fact, they would never be stiff again.

Elphaba, meanwhile, slid him a sideways glance and said nothing for a moment as he gazed blankly at the yellow brick paving beneath their feet.

"I'm sorry. It's obviously a sore subject. I shall desist."

Fiyero shook himself from his recollections, and shook his head, managing a small smile which she did not return.

"No, no, it's quite alright. Really. It's been difficult to adjust, but I'm over it, I think. Besides, being made of straw isn't so bad. I don't have to eat or drink or anything."

Elphaba looked at him, obviously intrigued, but looking a little uncomfortable. She had always held a deep compassion for those who suffered, even if she was better at hiding it in her younger years.

"Do you miss it?"

"Miss what?"

"Eating and drinking."

Fiyero considered. Well, yes, he supposed so…but the need, the ache for hunger no longer existed in him. He missed being able to eat and drink, certainly. He missed the taste and the smell and the feeling…he missed the sensation of _being _that it gave him. But with the turmoil that had occurred over the past few weeks, he had not really noticed. That was an unsettling thought.

"To be honest, I haven't had time yet to think on it." He must be a paradox in the flesh. A thinker without a brain. "Not that I can, very well. Think, that is. Having a brain made of wheat isn't the best way to earn a scholarship."

He didn't mean to sound so utterly dejected, but at least this put Elphaba off asking any more blunt questions. She cleared her throat uneasily and hastily changed the subject.

"You said you knew of Shiz. Does this…parallel land or whatever it is…have a parallel Shiz University, too?"

Fiyero did not answer for a moment. He had to be careful what he let slip. After all, it was probably best that Elphaba did not find out she was currently in her own future where she was a banished, officially deceased outcast. Nope. That would _not _be a pleasant revelation.

"I couldn't say. It-" Suddenly, something caught his eye. Two blurred, dark figures had appeared around the corner of the road.

"Look!" He cried out excitedly, stopping suddenly and pointing. Elphaba squinted in the general direction of his finger, clearly looking up at the sky rather than the road.

"What?" She asked, exasperatedly. Fiyero would have rolled his eyes if he could, but as it was, he only emphasised the direction of his finger with a sharp jab.

"On the horizon, just coming round the bend! Travellers! Can you see them? I can't make them out, all I see are blurry figures."

Elphaba seemed to locate the two blurred figures, and took a few steps forward, straining to see in the darkness.

"There's two of them." She summarised helpfully, peering intently into the gloom "One tall and dark. The other short and…"

She blinked in surprise, then made an odd expression which made her look like she had swallowed a particularly large and bitter lemon. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and sighed resignedly.

"…and pink. Hm." Ah, Fiyero thought. Strong likelihood that was Galinda, then. Elphaba studied the other figure with increasing intensity, and Fiyero swallowed nervously. Bang goes the ruse.

"The companion you were looking for…do they wear a tall, pointed black hat?"

Or not, as the case may be. Latching onto this statement, Fiyero nodded eagerly, glad that he had found Elphaba – his Elphaba – at last. They had gotten separated a few days back when they had been forced to cross a river. He had not comprehended that, as a straw bale, he would soak up water like a sponge and either sink or float helplessly in the current. By the time he had realised this he had been dragged downstream too fast for Elphaba to follow.

"Yes, yes, the very one! At last…" He smiled, relief evident in his tone "And what of your Galinda?" He asked, feigning innocence, although he knew full well that only one person in the world would ever wear that bulbous, bright pink dress and manage to look vaguely normal " Is that her?"

Said pink blur emitted an excited shout (which was more like a banshee shriek than anything) as she spotted them and came charging down the hill. Elphaba pinched the bridge of her nose and drew a deep breath, muttering sullenly:

"Unfortunately."

**A/N: Poor old Glinda! That girl never gets a break, does she? Ah well. Morrible escaped! The Wizard returned! This does not bode well for our band of mismatched heroes. **

**Please review, and thanks for reading! Have a great 2007!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: (is stunned) Wow! An enormous thanks to everyone who reviewed, as ever! Sorry this took so long to update, what with the New Year celebrations and being back at school…anyway. Hope you enjoy!**

_**Compass Point **_

_**5. **_

Fabala was almost startled right out of her large boots when Galinda suddenly let out an inhumanly high pitched shriek and took off down the hill they had just reached the peak of. Biting back a curse she attempted to calm her pounding heart, and glanced distractedly down to see what Galinda was so excited about. When she finally spotted the two figures standing at the base of the hill, she felt her heart freeze in her chest.

There she was. Herself, that was. Standing clear as day beside a frantically waving figure that was obviously Fiyero. She felt great relief at seeing him, but her eyes were drawn to the form of her younger self, dressed in a simple, dark navy dress with her hair pulled back into a tight plait. It was quite the oddest experience of her life, and that was saying something.

Studying the younger Elphaba further, she frowned. Much as she hated to admit it, Glinda had been right. She had been seriously fashion challenged in those days.

Straightening her hat and smoothing her dress, feeling inexplicably nervous, she adopted a passive smile and made her way uneasily down the hill behind the beige and mauve blur that was Galinda.

"Fiyero! So you decided to leave poor old _**Fabala **_behind, did you?" She called as casually as she could, giving him a significant look as she emphasised her compromised name. He looked surprised, and grinned, nodding almost imperceptibly to indicate that he had understood.

Meanwhile, Galinda and Elphaba were engaging in a far from civil reunion. Having charged full pelt down the hill, Galinda seemed to recover herself, skidding to a halt before her green-skinned schoolmate and clearing her throat, flushing with embarrassment. Elphaba's face sported the weirdest expression, as though her features were unsure how to arrange themselves. The result was something which looked vaguely like a constipated frog which had just swallowed a rotten fly.

"Galinda." She greeted, stiffly.

"Elphaba." Galinda returned, with similar hostility.

There was a long, awkward pause, as Galinda fidgeted with the hem of her skirts, and Elphaba cast her gaze elsewhere. Eventually, Elphaba broke the ringing quiet.

"You're unharmed?"

She muttered, trying to sound as unconcerned as possible. Galinda blinked in slight confusion, flushed pink again, and nodded hastily, quickly looking herself over.

"Apart from my _shoes _still being covered in icky goo and having about a million blisters on my feet, yes."

She said, gazing mournfully down at her ruined shoes which would no doubt be mentioned for many a year to come. Elphaba glanced down at them also, and suppressed a smirk as she recalled 'accidentally' spilling the sticky substance upon them during class.

"How very tragic."

She drawled, words practically dripping with sarcasm. Galinda puffed out her chest and poked Elphaba in the chest, exclaiming hotly:

"It _is!_ These shoes were important to me!" Sighing in exasperation, she shook her head despairingly "Anyway, enough of all that. Look who I met!" She gestured behind her towards her former travelling companion "She's called Fabala, and she says she's a witch, a real live witch! Isn't that _amazing?_"

Elphaba glanced with disinterest towards Galinda's proclaimed 'Fabala', and did a double take. Wait. No. That couldn't be right, surely? It must have been a trick of the light…the woman couldn't be…

…green?

Her mind went entirely blank, bombarded with a million questions which overrode any sense of clear thought. She vaguely registered that the woman was about a head taller than herself…or did she seem taller due to that peculiar hat she wore? And bore features and hair similar to that of her own, although her face was more pointed, more dignified, and her eyes burned with a quiet maturity and confidence which was almost suffocating. And finally, as aforementioned…she was inexplicably, inescapably…green.

Green like Elphaba. Fabala smiled wanly at her, had ducked her head in a brief nod.

"Well, Miss Elphaba. I've heard an awful to about you." She said purposefully, and Elphaba felt drawn to her. Her manner was unassuming yet somehow powerful, her forebodingly black attire only adding to the effect.

Suddenly realising her mouth was hanging wide open, Elphaba hastily closed it, her cheeks filling with blood as she struggled to locate the appropriate words floating about in the foggy mess that was her brain.

"You…you're…" She spluttered, unable to convey her observation. Fabala's gaze softened almost imperceptibly, and she seemed to understand.

"I don't think either of us has cause to stare. Shall we dispense with all the exclamations and simply accept our mutual colouring?"

She said, quite pleasantly, as though she was discussing the weather. She extended a firm, emerald coloured hand half covered by a pointed sleeve. Elphaba stared at it for a moment, the situation seeming surreal. To see a hand before her, coloured so, but it not being her own, was utterly…perplexing. Unreal. Impossible. Improbable. True.

Smiling stiffly, but with substantial relief, she clutched the hand in her own and they shook, just once, then let go.

"Gladly. Galinda said you were a sorceress…?"

A dark shadow flickered behind Fabala's eyes, but within a split second, it had gone. Elphaba blinked in surprise, as suddenly, she could not read the elder woman at all. Her smile widened convincingly, and she bent her upper body in a small bow as she sarcastically introduced herself properly:

"Fabala. Former Witch of the West, as Miss Galinda so kindly pointed out."

Galinda did not hear this comment, as she was too busy looking curiously at Fiyero, who seemed distinctly uncomfortable under her scrutiny. Fascinated, Galinda circled the scarecrow slowly, staring with a rudeness she was blissfully unaware of.

"And who are you, Mister? Why, you're made of _straw!_" She idly prodded a protruding stem, and Fiyero flinched "How very odd. Are you an animated being? Or were you human? Is it difficult to wash? How do you breathe? Why-OUCH!"

Her meandering musings were abruptly cut off as Elphaba cuffed her soundly round the head with the back of her hand. Galinda reeled, although the blow had not been particularly strong, and scowled petulantly at Elphaba. Utterly speechless, she silently demanded an explanation. Elphaba shrugged, going to no expense to defend herself.

"You were gabbling."

She stated coolly, shoving her hands deep into her pockets and flicking her long plait over her shoulder in an uncharacteristically Galindafied gesture. Perhaps this land had gone to her head, she mused.

"That doesn't justify violence, Miss Elphaba!"

Galinda reprimanded, gingerly rubbing the back of her head. Elphaba rolled her eyes and returned tartly:

"You were being rude, callous and potentially hurtful. That _does _justify violence."

Galinda blinked in surprise at this statement, then scowled, and opened her mouth furiously to retort. Wisely jumping between them, Fiyero hastily intervened, addressing Galinda with a slightly tight smile on his face:

"Oh, it's quite alright, young lady. I'm used to such comments by now. Let's just let it lie, shall we? We're exactly the most picturesque of rag-tag bands."

Galinda, put out, looked over her fellows, and returned his smile a little sheepishly.

"I suppose not."

Suddenly all business, she whirled on her heel to face Elphaba and gestured imperiously to Fabala:

"Fabala says she can get us home, Elphaba."

Elphaba's entire attention was automatically focused upon the elder woman, as she whipped abruptly around to fix her with an intense stare.

"Is this true?" She demanded, and Fabala cleared her throat, and nodded curtly.

"Yes, I could, but…it's not very simple. You were transported here by powerful sorcery, so it would take powerful sorcery to get you back. But get back you must, and so…" She trailed off, unable to express the enormity of the situation with words. Looking meaningfully from Elphaba to Galinda, she eventually turned to Fiyero, a silent plea for help.

"Yero, is there anywhere we could stop to take rest?"

Change the subject, she thought, desperately. There was absolutely no way she could reveal the extent of her plans to return the two young time travellers without also revealing far too much information concerning their whereabouts. Fiyero seemed to understand this, and considered her request.

"A few miles back down the road, there's an old abandoned waterwheel building. We could reach it before daybreak if we hurry."

Elphaba and Galinda, feeling thoroughly left-out, started forwards simultaneously.

"Wait!" They exclaimed in unison, then glared at each other. Elphaba eventually broke the lock and continued "How do you intend to get us home?"

Fabala drew a deep breath. She had expected this; she knew _she _would not trust her own well-being to a pair of strangers she had barely met, and considering the fact that Elphaba was a younger, more hot-headed and more hostile form of herself…well, let's just say the next few days were going to be extremely difficult.

"Could you possibly save your questions for when we reach this place of refuge? I shall explain all I can then." She paused, and squinted into the distance, then gestured to Elphaba and Galinda "You two…could you run on ahead, to the top of the hill and see if you can see the river, to the east? I must discuss something urgently with my partner."

Elphaba gave her a suspicious look, and Galinda stomped both her feet rapidly in quick succession in an expression of frustration.

"Oh, why are we always walking _uphill?" _She groaned exasperatedly, but nonetheless beginning the long trek back up the hill"This is going to kill my heels…"

Elphaba, breaking her uncomfortable gaze upon Fabala, turned also. Reluctantly, the pair traipsed towards the crest of the hill, still bantering with sour enthusiasm.

"Oh, quit whining and move, you oversized puffball. You should have worn more practical clothing."

Galinda, as expected, was incensed by this comment.

"Well, when I chose my wardrobe this morning, I wasn't exactly anticipating travelling to a hostile _parallel universe _of all places, believe it or not!"

"Do you ever think of anybody but yourself?"

"What has that got to do with any of this!"

"Oh, just shut up and walk…"

Galinda let out a strangled, high-pitched shriek of frustration, and stomped even harder upon the yellow paving beneath them.

"This is not going to be any fun at all!" She wailed, thoroughly disappointed with the days most recent turn of events. Elphaba slid her a sidelong look, and nodded grimly.

"For once, Galinda, I completely agree with you."

&&&&&&&

"I had forgotten."

Elphaba blinked in surprise as Fiyero spoke softly, a strange smile playing about his awkward lips. She turned her gaze away from the retreating figures in the distance and gave the scarecrow a questioning look.

"Oh?" She inquired, and he shook himself, his smile widening.

"How much you detested each other. They're so…untouched. Full of life. Not innocent, but…different." His smile faltered "You both changed so much."

Fabala swallowed thickly, forcing her mind not to go wandering into a past that seemed as far away as though it was another world. She pinched the bridge of her nose and turned away from the hill.

"How in all of Oz, did this happen, Yero?" She murmured quietly "It's…utterly impossible for them to be here…"

Fiyero hesitated, then placed a tentative hand on her shoulder and squeezed in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

"Everything happens for a reason, Fae." He muttered encouragingly, although he didn't really know whether he believed that. Fabala gave him a tight, yet grateful smile, and sighed.

"This changes everything. If we do not return them to their time, there will be no future for us." She clenched her fists at her side "But I…cannot do it, without the Grimmerie. And I left that with…"

She faltered, her voice catching, unable to voice the name. They had not spoken of the life they left behind since they had walked out of a small side gate within the Emerald City.

"With Glinda." He finished, softly, and she nodded, lowering her gaze. Fiyero could do nothing but look at her, feeling inordinately useless.

"Oh, Fae. I'm so sorry." Was all he could say, and it sounded entirely lame. He frowned as a thought occurred to him.

"I don't suppose there would be a way…" He hesitated, then blundered on "…to steal it, without her knowledge?"

Fabala stiffened. After a long moment, she slumped, seeming suddenly far older than she was.

"It would break her heart." She whispered bluntly "I left it as a token of our friendship, and practically ordered her to keep it safe. If it went missing, she would feel she had failed me." She smirked bitterly "Not to sound arrogant, but that…it would destroy her."

Fiyero removed his hand from Fabala's shoulder and looked away.

"But then…what can we do?"

Fabala pulled herself up to her full height, and drew a deep breath, rolling her shoulders briefly, the defensive walls coming back down around her. Fiyero sighed quietly. He hated it when she clammed up like this; she became an entirely different person.

"We must find a way to take the Grimmerie for just one night. Then we can return them, replace it, and continue on our journey."

She made it sound so simple. Fiyero very much doubted it would be anywhere near as easy as she made it out to be.

"Elphaba?" He said automatically, and winced as she flinched.

"Have you considered that…they might be here for a reason? What if they are here to prevent us from leaving into exile? Maybe they were brought here to…mend the ways between you and Glinda, to clear your name, maybe even to-"

"Stop it." She cut him off with finality, an indistinct quaver to her voice. She continued, quietly: "I can't hope. I daren't hope."

Fiyero nodded hastily, and patted her awkwardly on the shoulder again, cursing his inability to do or say the right thing.

"We'll take it one step at a time. We'll work it out. You'll see."

Fabala laughed genuinely if a little brokenly, the sound catching and grating in her throat unpleasantly, but somehow, she managed to smile.

"Yero, my Hero, you are far from brainless. You are the wisest man I have ever known."

Fiyero felt himself light up and shine inside, and cleared his throat uncomfortably, fully aware of the goofy smile which was probably covering his lips. Catching her elbow, he steered her gently back to face the hill, where the figures of Galinda and Elphaba had long since vanished.

"Come we must go, before Galinda and…well, _you_…kill each other."

Fabala, for a moment, said nothing, considering the journey, and, no doubt, the fight to come.

"This is going to very a very odd experience."

She stated as casually as she could manage, as though commenting on the weather. Fiyero grinned and clasped his hands behind his back as they began to walk.

"Nothing but the most extraordinary for us, Fae."

**A/N: Again, apologies for the wait! Please review and let me know what you think!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: (begs forgiveness) I am SO sorry people! I've got masses of exams coming up and too many stories to maintain! Sorry! On a positive note, many thanks to all who continue to review! It means a lot. **

**Oh, and y'all will be pleased to hear I actually went to see Wicked the Musical today (in London, with Kerry Ellis as Elphaba and Helen something-or-other as Glinda) and it rocked! Kerry was such a sweet Elphaba, and although Helen was a bit shrill, she was good, too.**

**Anyway, read on…**

_**Compass Point**_

_**6.**_

Glinda stood very still, the very picture of composure, before the ornate door of what had once been the Wizard's palace. She watched with dead eyes and a forced smile as the small, weedy little man made his way through the crowd, meeting and greeting and shaking hands. Swallowed in a seething mass of green, he seemed no less threatening than a fly amid a swarm of wasps.

She knew better.

"A truly momentous day, Lady Glinda?" Lord Baal gushed, awestruck, and Glinda clasped her hands tightly together behind her back to prevent them from shaking.

"Quite." She replied, stiffly, her heart beginning to beat faster and faster as the Wizard ascended the steps which led up to the palace. Why? Why return now? What possible purpose could he have?

He raised his head, and met her gaze, his kindly features shining with seeming rapture at the joy of his return. Then, something darkened in his watery blue gaze; his smile faltered for a fraction of a second, malicious intent dancing mockingly behind the pleasantly wrinkled skin and the neatly greased hair. Glinda felt as though something cold and slippery was creeping down her neck and along her spine, and she shuddered.

When he finally stood before her, mere feet away, she felt as though something was stuck in her throat and, for a moment, couldn't speak.

"Your Eminence." She managed, barely, to keep her smile fixed firmly in place "How very…unexpected."

They were quite the pair; both squeezing pleasantries through their teeth while both knew the other was silently cursing them in their heads. Well, Glinda knew she was. She had no clue what he was thinking; that frightened her a little. Actually, a lot.

"And you, my dear, good witch." He caught her hand, holding it just a little too tightly and bowing just a little too stiffly "Your radiance has grown even greater than upon our last meeting."

Glinda felt her skin crawl with revulsion, and snatched her hand back as quickly as possible without appearing impolite. She had to maintain the upper hand here, the higher ground. That meant pandering to the citizens of the Emerald City; in other words, doing precisely what was expected to be done.

"My fellow Ozians!" She called over the excited chatter of the crowd "I hereby call a celebration, to celebrate the return of our good Wizard!"

It seemed she had done the right thing. Almost instantaneously the crowd roared and cheered, the clamour rising and swelling like the first few chords of a song. Glinda stared out at the adoring people of Oz, and felt her heart sink.

"Long live Lady Glinda! Long live the Wizard!"

For how long could she maintain power with the Wizard around, and with the hideous Madame Morrible on the loose? Her word would not stand up against the word of the Wizard's. The people had been brainwashed, indoctrinated into loving this portly, pathetic man whose only accomplishment was building an inappropriately coloured road (she'd always thought yellow an ugly colour) and the oppression of the Animals. Not to mention the death, no, _murder _of-

Glinda faltered, and ducked her head briefly as she felt her façade threaten to break. Her chest was tight; she could not draw enough breath to calm herself.

"If you would follow me; you must be tired after your journey." She said, feeling oddly detached, her mouth forming appropriate responses automatically. The Wizard offered her an evidently strained grateful smile.

"Such graces, dear Glinda," He offered her his arm disdainfully, obviously more of an order than an invitation "your hospitality certainly appears to have improved."

Glinda looked from the proffered arm, covered in what looked like expensive emerald velvet, to the wrinkled face, then up, high, high up, to the west. The sky was a gorgeous, deep blue, but with a telltale hint of grey on the Western horizon. Guilt and despair flooded through her like an avenging fire.

_But what else can I do, Elphie? I have no choice. _She thought, and watched her own hand reach out and wrap around the Wizard's elbow. _I'm sorry._

The Wizard abruptly whirled about, dragging Glinda with her and swinging them both to face the crowd. He flung his free arm in the air while Glinda caught her balance, the muscles in her face aching with the effort to keep smiling.

"Dear friends, countrymen…Lords of my beloved land of Oz." He addressed the immediate band of Nobles and Officials, members of the court who had gathered on the steps below them "I beg of you patience, for I am fatigued. Would you attend an audience tomorrow morning?"

Glinda's mouth fell open in shock, then almost immediately pursed in suppressed rage. How _dare_ he. The arrogant, selfish, son of a-

"Of course!"

-fashionably challenged, short, ugly, bald _bast_-

"Our adored Wizard, pleasant rest and many fair days!"

Oh, what was the use? _Do something, Glinda, you useless idiot! Shout at him! Jump on him! Take off your shoes and beat him to death with the heels, anything!_

The Wizard's smile widened, and he looked triumphantly at Glinda, who found herself all at once at a loss for words "And now, a brief council with Oz's most esteemed ruler." He said, pleasantly, a glint of malice seeping into his gaze "Glinda?"

Glinda swallowed thickly, but felt her resolve harden. She couldn't just lie down and take this without a fight. She was still the Good Witch of the North, and Lurline, if she couldn't save Oz from the tyranny of the Wizard then who would? There was nobody left but her.

"As you please." She said, raising herself up to her full height and tightening her grip on her wand before walking with the Wizard towards the doors of the palace.

_Elphie…_

If the Wizard wanted Oz, he would have to fight for it tooth and nail. She was about to let her best friend's murderer rule this land again. Not while she still drew breath.

_I won't give in to this. I __**won't. **_

&&&&&&&

"Well, there's the river."

After a couple of minutes of trudging spent in sulky silence, they had reached a small grassy bank, the crest of which afforded a view of the river. Well, it could hardly be called a _river. _More a sort of congealed, muddy flow of water struggling along. Elphaba's brow furrowed, and Galinda curled her lip and wrinkled her nose at the smell.

"It looks just as it did in our Oz, except…darker." Elphaba commented, shielding her eyes from the rain with a long fingered hand "Can you see? It looks polluted. And the surface looks troubled, despite the fact there's no wind."

Galinda shot her companion a glare, and groaned quietly. Although it was not terribly cold, she found herself shivering almost uncontrollably. It was a horrible feeling. Elphaba stood stock still, resolute as ever, unaffected. Galinda felt a stab of resentment towards her stoic companion. She sighed.

"I'm not sure I like it here." She said quietly, and Elphaba started, almost having forgotten Galinda was there.

"I thought it would be interesting to remain here and investigate…" She replied after a moment "after all, this is quite an extraordinary experience. But-"

Galinda's head snapped up incredulously, a look of horror in her eyes at the prospect of staying.

"I don't know how you can say that! It's utterly _beastly _here. It's so cold and oppressive." As though proving a point, heavy raindrops began to fall like blows against her skull and the bare skin of her legs, and she felt a deep exhaustion that went far beyond physical pain. Just _being _here was grating against her every instinct. She felt out of place; unnatural.

Elphaba gazed up at the stormy, turbulent bowl of the sky and felt a deep shudder crawl up her spine. Ever since she had arrived here she had felt as though the very land itself was crying out to her, wailing its silent agony which was to her as loud as a scream.

"The sky is weeping." She murmured, sadness filling her heart to the brim. Galinda, meanwhile, was less sentimental and more concerned with her own wellbeing.

"I think a more accurate description would be blubbering buckets, dear roommate mine." She clenched her fists and twisted the material of her skirt in frustration "Oooooh! I'm going to be soaked! And I curled my hair this morning."

"Now _that _would be a tragedy." Uncharacteristically, Galinda did not anger at the jibe and merely continued to look dejected. Elphaba blinked in surprise, eying the sad mess of dampening curls and the rips and stains on her companion's clothing. Now, Galinda seemed neither arrogant nor silly-minded. She just looked miserable.

Unbidden, Elphaba felt compassion rise within her, and she sighed, removing her own hat from her head "Here." She dropped it none too gracefully on Galinda's head "The rim will keep the rain off."

Galinda simply stood there, stunned, the bowl and rim of the hat enclosing her head and making her feel somehow safer. She felt her body relax unwittingly, and pushed the brim up from where it had slipped down. Ironically, it seemed Elphaba's head was lot larger than Galinda's, minus the hair.

"Does it have a frog in it or something?" She asked with raised eyebrows, more because she did not know what else to say. Besides, she wouldn't put it past her green-skinned classmate to play such a trick. Elphaba snorted and her lips quirked upwards in the hint of a bitter smile.

"No. Unfortunately, I left my stash of frogs which I use for evildoing at home. Shame that."

She chuckled quietly at her own joke, while Galinda pouted, huffed and folded her arms, goosebumps rising up her skin. "There's no reason to be all sarcastic about it."

A long moment passed, while Galinda dithered and Elphaba thought. Galinda didn't know what to do or say. Nobody ever did anything kind for her voluntarily; she was so used to asking and manipulating and prodding to get her way that she had forgotten what a joy courtesy brought. In her life, you did not receive something unless you gave something in return. But…

"Thanks." She muttered, rather pathetically, and Elphaba nodded distractedly. And Galinda found, to her great surprise, that she meant it. Gratitude. There was something else knew. This place must be messing with her head.

"So…what now?" She asked, to fill the silence. Elphaba pushed a wet strand of dark hair from her face and blinked away the rain that had got into her eyes.

"The most logical course of action here is to stay together. Our best chance of getting home is that way. Conflict would be unwise."

Curt, to the point and coolly logical. That was Elphaba through and through. It was one of the things which made Galinda uneasy. Elphaba could shift from cold and unreadable to emotional and unstable in the blink of an eye. She was unpredictable and spontaneous. It frightened Galinda, and yet, it inspired her.

"This place…this land…it's like it's scarred." She murmured, and Elphaba looked at her in surprise "Like it's seen too much evil." Another heavy shiver racked her form, and she wrapped her arms tighter about her "It frightens me…just a little."

Elphaba stared at this unexpected stranger who stood beside her, this sudden glimpse of an emphatic and uncertain young girl who lurked beneath the jewelled façade Galinda usually maintained. Galinda's usually bright and shallow blue eyes instead appeared dark, almost unreadable.

"Maybe you're not all you seem after all." She said, turning her eyes back to the polluted surface of the river. Galinda sighed, feeling distinctly aged by her short time spent here, and in a rare moment of insight simply replied:

"Is anyone?"

&&&&&&&

"What are you doing! I demand that you unhand me at once!" Glinda protested as she was dragged by the arm down corridors and stairwells, all the while desperately twisting her wrist and pulling back with all her might. The Wizard maintained a steely silence, his grip on her bruised skin unwavering as he marched her on.

Eventually, they reached the top of a particularly winding staircase (in one of the towers, Glinda guessed) where the Wizard halted, and tightened his grip on Glinda's arm as he reached into his waistcoat pocket. She winced, but made no sound. She was determined to show no signs of weakness in front of this _murderer._

"Now, my dear. If you would be so kind, I will take a few minutes of your time." The Wizard said, pleasantly, while fitting a small key into the lock of a large, ornate door that stood at the top of the stairway. Glinda's eyes widened. Where had he gotten such a key from? She had changed all the locks in the castle when he left…well, when he had been banished.

The door swung smoothly open, and the Wizard pushed Glinda firmly inside before pulling it shut behind him and pocketing the key. Glinda rubbed her wrist absently as she looked around. Yes, of course. This was the North tower; the old astronomy platform. During the Wizard's reign it had been filled with all sorts of odd ticking contraptions and models of planets. Now, however, only a single telescope remained; the one which was bolted as if by magic to the window ledge itself.

The Wizard stared sadly at the empty room, then looked accusingly at her "You've made some changes, I see."

Glinda drew herself up to her full height, and fingered the thin stem of her wand beneath her skirts. It wasn't much of a comfort. She had had little success with the Grimmerie; she had taught herself to read a few words, but not enough to complete an entire spell. In truth, the wand was utterly useless. Still. It made her feel better to have it close.

"I have no desire to speak with you." She said, her clear voice rebounding off the curved stone walls and making her feel more in control "You are an exile here. I suggest you take your rest and leave at first light, before I am forced to take drastic action."

The Wizard actually laughed, the sound a sharp, shrill sort of noise which cut through the air like a blunt knife. Glinda felt a cold, leaden feeling bury itself in the pit of her stomach, but ignored it, forcing her features to remain impassive.

"_Drastic _action?" The Wizard repeated mockingly, and let out a few more condescending chuckles "My poor dear Witch, you are a source of endless amusement. Do you not understand?" He stepped closer to her, and Glinda physically forced herself not to step back "Or, perhaps, have you not heard what I have heard?"

Glinda blinked, thrown, but quickly regained herself.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She said, coolly, sounding a lot more certain than she felt. The Wizard was playing her, that was all. Trying to twist her mind like he had all of Oz.

"Oh, but I think you do, Glinda the Good." He murmured, silkily, menace dripping from his tone "Shall I explain it in plain words?"

"Please do." Glinda returned, in almost scathing challenge. The poisonous hand of anger had begun to crawl in her chest, making her cheeks flush and her hands ball into fists. _No. control yourself. Don't give him the satisfaction-_

"It has come to my attention that a certain fugitive's tragic death…" the Wizard's lips slowly curled into a sneering smile "may have been vastly exaggerated."

Glinda felt as though she had been turned to stone.

"Elphaba?" She breathed, so quietly that even she wondered if she had spoke aloud. A wave of grief sapped all energy from her, which was quickly replaced by a burning rage which threatened to consume her.

"Don't be utterly ridiculous!" She hissed at the despicable man. Never before had she hated someone so passionately, not even in the days of her rivalry with Elphaba "You are insane. She's…" Her voice stumbled, broke. She felt again that inexplicable, insurmountable feeling of loss that made her chest feel so hollow yet so full of grief she could explode.

"Dead." She stated, emotionless "I saw her-"

"That is enough."

Glinda started as the Wizard brusquely cut her off, his eyes narrowing and his voice losing all pretence of politeness.

"Shall we put aside these childish pretences?" he said, coldly "I think you know precisely what I am talking about. And I think you're going to tell me what you know."

Glinda stared at him, all at once both terrified and utterly bewildered. The raw wound of Elphaba's death having been ripped open so cruelly, it was a wonder she could think straight at all.

"Leave." Her tone held the telltale hint of a tremble, and she cursed her own weakness "I demand that you leave immediately. Get out!"

The room was quiet. Then that same clinical, sadistic chuckle filled the room and made Glinda's blood run cold. Her heart was beating so hard against her ribs that she was sure she could hear the bone creaking under the strain.

"That is something I cannot do." The Wizard said, taking another step closer to her "You see, this matter is very personal to me, as I think you know. You were, after all, the one who brought the truth to my attention. And for that I am eternally grateful." Glinda blinked at this sudden seeming sincerity "Elphaba-"

Glinda watched in slow motion as her best friend's name slithered from his filthy lips like a curse, and she shuddered, feeling as though Elphaba's memory had been tainted and violated by the Wizard merely speaking her name.

"Don't you DARE-" She raised a hand and brought it down with whip-like force towards his face. Elphaba was dead. Dead, dead, dead, dead, **DEAD! **Oh God, for how long had she chanted this to herself, day and night, like a holy mantra, yet still it hurt every time.

A sudden sharp pain in her wrist, and she flinched. The Wizard had caught her hand mid-blow, and now held the joint with a crushing strength which seemed beyond him.

"Glinda, Glinda, Glinda." He tutted quietly, his wrinkled face seeming too close to hers, that smirk filling her heart with hatred "You misunderstand your situation. You are no longer in charge here. I am. I want my daughter back."

_Please, God. I want Elphaba back._

"And I think you're going to help me."

She had wished, begged, pleaded, but to no avail. Elphaba wasn't coming back. And no matter how much he threatened or twisted her mind with these games, that fact wouldn't change. She felt some sick sadistic pleasure in the knowledge that the Wizard suffered with her.

Glinda laughed bitterly in the Wizard's face, a mad, hysterical laugh which shuddered with grief and remorse and longing. And in that moment, she had never felt more utterly alone.

&&&&&&&

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Sorry again for taking so long!**

**ONE LAST NOTE: When I saw Wicked today, one bit that stuck with me was right at the end, when Elphaba and Fiyero leave in the final scene leaving Glinda in her bubble above the cheering Ozian's. There was a lot going on in the scene but when I looked at Glinda she was actually **_**sobbing. **_**Hugging the Grimmerie to her chest and sobbing silently. That ending was bittersweet, very bittersweet. **

**Please review! Feedback is love. **


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